


Love You To

by harriet_vane



Category: Social Network (2010) RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-01
Updated: 2012-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-30 11:49:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harriet_vane/pseuds/harriet_vane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by some people I know who decided to run off and get married after just a couple of months of dating. What if you just knew it was right and decided to go for it?</p><blockquote>
  <p>"You got married!" Justin shouted. "You didn't invite me! Did you even have a party? Does your mom know? You've only been dating him since September! And <em>oh my god, you didn't invite me!</em>"</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Love You To

**Author's Note:**

> Torakowalski fixed all my silly mistakes with Andrew's English (wardrobe, flat, maths, jumper, why can't I remember?) and Elucreh fixed everything else. Remaining mistakes are my own. 
> 
>  
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies: It's not meant to be about or imply anything about these actual people, just fictionalized versions of their public personas, ie, if they get to make a movie about Zuckerberg, I get to write this fic. BPlease don't post this fic anywhere else, please don't distribute it anywhere, please don't put it on goodreads, and really really please don't link it to anyone being written about here. Thanks!

Jesse was staring at a blank screen on his computer trying to come up with a new way to explain that, while the play he was reviewing was probably not the greatest crime against art that humanity had ever committed, it wasn't very good, either, when Justin leaned over Jesse's desk.

"You," said Justin accusingly. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"Your skinny tie looks ridiculous," said Jesse promptly.

Justin made a growly, annoyed noise. "Seriously? You didn't do anything fun over that week off that I should know about? That I should have been _invited to_?"

Jesse pretended to be typing for a minute, hoping the general hum of the office would come up with a convincing answer for that question that Justin might accept. Justin crossed his arms and leaned against Jesse's desk, glowering.

"Um," said Jesse. He could feel himself starting to blush a little bit, which was a dead giveaway, probably. "Why? What do you mean?"

"Well, _I_ spent Christmas at home in Tennessee hanging out with my family and getting totally shitfaced with my high school friends," said Justin. He waited, but Jesse wasn't going to look up and admit anything. "And then," Justin prompted, "yesterday I checked your boyfriend's Facebook page. You know we're Facebook friends, right?"

"I don't have a Facebook," Jesse mumbled, trying to sink into his chair.

"Funny thing," said Justin, getting loud enough that people all over the office were looking over at them. Emma in particular looked intrigued. "Andrew changed his status Saturday from 'In A Relationship' to 'Married.' I was all ready to be pissed at him for ditching you and running off with an ex or something and then I saw the picture of you two standing in front of the courthouse, kissing."

Jesse tried a couple of different apologetic expressions, but Justin's pause was deeply accusatory. "Oh, we, um. So, um. Yeah," Jesse managed.

"You got married!" Justin shouted. "You didn't invite me! Did you even have a party? Does your mom know? You've only been dating him since September! And _oh my god, you didn't invite me!_ "

"What?" Emma shrieked. Behind her, Brenda jumped to her feet and started clapping. Jesse found himself suddenly surrounded by the entirety of his office, clamoring to know what the hell was going on.

"Okay," said Jesse, swiveling his chair around to face them. His face was bright red and this wasn't at all how he'd wanted the conversation to start, but trust Justin to cause a giant fuss. "We were… I mean, we were kind of joking about it during the holiday, and then… Andrew was like, 'No, we really should,' and it takes a couple of days to get the paperwork filed and we weren't sure when we'd both have a week off at the same time again, so we… Um." He held up his hand like a confession, showing them the plain silver ring on his fourth finger.

"You've only been dating for four months!" Brenda wailed.

"There wasn't even a _party_?" Justin demanded incredulously.

"Oh my god, congratulations!" Emma said, and hugged Jesse. "Everybody shut up and congratulate Jesse!"

Jesse had never been hugged by Woody and Brenda and Joe and everyone so energetically. He would have happily avoided so much attention at once but their office was really just one big square room with everyone's desks and a little kitchenette off the side, and there was nothing else to distract everyone.

"Call Andrew," Justin demanded. "So I can yell at him."

"So we can congratulate him," Emma corrected him, giving him a little poke in the shoulder.

"Tomato, tomahto," Justin grumbled.

"He's still asleep," Jesse tried, but Brenda grabbed his phone and dialed. When Andrew mumbled a sleepy hello she shrieked. "You got married!" and then everyone in the office started shouting a mix of congratulations, and oh my god, and Justin's continued insistence that not being invited was basically the most insulting thing that had ever happened. It took Jesse a couple of seriously embarrassing minutes to steal his phone back, and then he grabbed it and fled into the hall.

"What was that?" Andrew asked, laughing, still sounding mostly asleep.

"Your stupid Facebook," said Jesse. "Justin saw it and freaked out. I am not going back in there. They are crazy people."

"They're really nice," said Andrew. "I've been getting shit on Facebook from my cast about it."

"I think we broke Justin's heart," said Jesse. "He's never going to forgive me."

"He will," said Andrew soothingly. "You just have to let him throw us a party." He paused for a second. "You aren't… You don't regret it, do you?"

"No," said Jesse. He clenched his free hand into a fist to feel the ring pressing into his finger. "Not at all. Not even a little bit."

"Oh good," said Andrew, sounding distinctly relieved. "Me neither."

Jesse bit the inside of his cheek to try and keep from smiling too widely while one of the lawyers who worked in the suite down the hall walked past him. "I'm totally happy to be married to you," Jesse said, feeling a little giddy and goofy, embarrassed by the honesty of the sentiment.

"The pleasure was all mine, Mister Eisenberg," said Andrew, sounding just about exactly as giddy. "I miss you."

"I've only been at work for an hour and a half," said Jesse. He had to get up earlier from Andrew's apartment to get to work, which meant less time lying around in bed making fun of Andrew because he didn't have to get up until noon. All Jesse wanted in the world at that moment was to go home and get back into bed with his husband. He started to giggle at the word 'husband' and stopped himself. He had gotten _married_. He had a _husband_. It was so ridiculous.

"Shall I stop by your flat tonight after the show?" Andrew asked. "I guess I should start bringing things over to properly move in, shouldn't I?"

Jesse's breath hitched in his chest. "Yeah," he said. "We should… We need to figure out where all your stuff is going to go."

"I'm so excited," said Andrew. "Can't wait to live together. Tell Justin he can throw us a party if he wants, yeah? That'll calm him down."

"He's going to want a DJ and a cake and stuff," Jesse groaned. "Strippers, maybe. I thought the whole point of getting married at city hall was to avoid that."

"No," said Andrew, "it was to get married to you as quickly as possible. I love you, I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yeah," said Jesse, blushing furiously again. "Love you, too." He pocketed his phone and spent a minute in the hall, grinning at his sneakers and turning the ring on his finger around and around because he hadn't gotten entirely used to it being real.

Emma stuck her head out of the office. "By the way, if you think lunch today _isn't_ going to feature champagne and you telling all of us exactly what happened, you're delusional. Now get in here and make Justin stop sulking. Oh my god, I'm so _happy_ for you." She hugged him again. Jesse let himself be dragged back into the office because it was hard to be upset at the attention and the crowd when he was so thrilled about his entire life just then.

\--

Andrew had proposed on their third date. Jesse laughed it off and rolled his eyes and generally thought Andrew was being his ridiculous self. Somehow Jesse had gone from meeting Andrew to finding him ridiculous to finding him _amazing_ , all in the span of a week. Anyway, it was probably immoral to marry someone when you were supposed to be writing a review of the play he starred in.

Once the play was reviewed and Andrew was no longer a conflict of interest Jesse let himself be persuaded to go back to Andrew's apartment after their date. Andrew had promised to be a gentleman, so Jesse ended up being the one who moved them from lazy making out on the couch to much less lazy groping and eventually a blowjob on Andrew's bed. It wasn't the greatest sex in the world, but it was pretty good for a first time together. Afterwards Andrew curled up against Jesse's back and mumbled, "Really; we should get married. I mean it." Then he fell asleep.

Near the end of the first month was usually the point where Jesse started feeling claustrophobic about dating someone and wanted a little bit of space, but he waited and waited and he never felt like he needed to get away from Andrew. The switch from going on a couple of dates a week to seeing each other nearly every day with or without a date had been so seamless that Jesse hadn't noticed enough to panic. Andrew jokingly asked him to marry him, again. Jesse just rolled his eyes.

Jesse wasn't a person who had ever thought before, "I could spend the rest of my life with this person," and when the thought presented itself just a couple of months after they'd started dating, he had a moment of utter panic and then… Nothing. It was true. They were curled up on Jesse's couch and Andrew was going over lines for his new show and Jesse was reading some Tolstoy and Jesse could have stayed in that moment forever. He would have been happy to. If keeping it meant moving to England for Andrew or quitting his job to avoid a conflict of interest he would have. And he wouldn't have been sorry, because he would have had Andrew.

"This isn't bad, right?" Jesse had asked quietly, and Andrew, who understood him ridiculously well, just grinned and kissed him and went back to his script.

Andrew came home with him to New Jersey for one night of Chanukah and Jesse's mom loved him instantly; she tried to feed him up, and made him and Jesse pose for all kinds of silly couple-y pictures she could mail to all the relatives. Andrew loved taking pictures, and he loved helping her wash dishes, and he loved hearing her play folk music on the guitar while Jesse and his sister Hallie made pained, embarrassed faces and moaned. "Just what I always wanted in a son-in-law," Jesse's mom sighed, and Jesse froze, horribly uncomfortable on Andrew's behalf.

"Just what I always wanted in a mum-in-law," Andrew said grandly, hugging her. Jesse's heart began thumping crazily in his chest.

That night, while both of them tried to fit in Jesse's old bed, cuddled under the blanket and not tired enough to fall asleep, Jesse had tried to apologize for his mom, in case she'd made Andrew feel weird. "Not weird," he said, "welcomed. Appreciated. You'll have to meet my mum, too. She's going to love you." There was a long pause that Jesse didn't know what to do with and then Andrew said, "We could, you know."

"We could what?"

"I just mean… I'd marry you. I'll marry you right now if you can rustle up a rabbi." Jesse laughed and kissed him, and tried to roll over to tangle his legs with Andrew's but the bed was too small and he nearly pushed Andrew out instead. "Stop laughing, you'll wake your parents up, they'll hate me," Andrew said, trying not to laugh himself.

"I don't care about a rabbi; we can just go to City Hall," Jesse said, mostly kidding. Andrew's eyes went wide, and oddly hopeful, and suddenly Jesse couldn't breathe. He'd been joking. Or had he? "I'm sure you don't really want to marry someone you just started dating," he added uncertainly.

"I waited to ask you until the third date because I thought you'd run away otherwise," Andrew said, quiet and more serious than Jesse had ever seen him. "I would have married you then."

Something giddy and ridiculous was trying to bubble its way up through Jesse's chest and out through his mouth, like a hysterical laugh he couldn't control. "What about a party? What about planning? What about… Don't you want a dress?"

"I'll wear anything you want me to," said Andrew. "Wouldn't you hate all that? All the fuss?"

"My mom will kill me," Jesse said, and suddenly it was a real thing they were talking about, not a crazy joke. "She's been waiting years to cry at my wedding."

"She can cry at city hall," said Andrew. "It's legal in New York for us to get married. We have the whole week off; we could file the paperwork and figure out what to do and… do you own a suit?"

"I have one from my bar mitzvah," Jesse said.

Andrew found Jesse's hand under the blanket and he squeezed. There was a tense, electric moment while Andrew chewed on his lower lip and Jesse tried to think of all the good, rational, logical reasons he had for not marrying a guy he'd only been dating for four months. His heart was hammering in his ears and his breathing was a little jerky. When he opened his mouth what he ended up saying – blurting – was, "Okay. I’m in. Let's do it."

The look of incandescent joy on Andrew's face was more than enough reward. Although honestly, the sex was pretty great, too.

\--

Andrew shared his apartment with a guy named Matt who was never home, or else was asleep with his door locked. Andrew had taken Jesse to a bar with Matt once, which had been enlightening. Jesse had his own apartment in a nicer neighborhood, so it seemed logical that Andrew would move in with him.

Jesse hadn't actually counted on the sheer volume of stuff Andrew had. "How did you fit this in your tiny place?" Jesse asked, disbelieving, as Andrew brought yet another box upstairs.

Jesse's entire living room had been drowned in boxes, haphazardly labeled things like, "KITCHEN/BATHROOM/LIVING ROOM" and "STUFF FROM THE DRAWER." It made Jesse itchy to start putting it away and organizing it, although he had no idea where it was all going to go.

"That's all my DVDs," Andrew said cheerfully. "At least we don't have to worry about having duplicates, since you haven't got a television."

"I do now," said Jesse, looking a little dubiously at the one Andrew had dragged up the stairs with him.

"You mean we do now," Andrew corrected him. "That's the last of it. Not so bad, is it?"

Jesse would have said almost exactly the opposite; he had no idea how he was going to make dinner when the kitchen was full of Andrew's beanbag and piles of scripts and shoeboxes with odd labels on them. The bedroom was full, too; Andrew owned more clothes than Jesse had bought, in total, in his entire life. "I'm glad you're here," Jesse settled on finally, doing the mental math to see how long it would be before he could get all this stuff put away.

"I'm glad I'm here, too," said Andrew. He wrapped his arms around Jesse and tried to back him into a wall to kiss him, but there was just too much stuff between them and any flat surface. "Now we can start living in happily wedded bliss."

Andrew was a little sweaty from going up the four flights of Jesse's walk-up, but he was a lot enthusiastic, and he kissed like it was a special privilege. Jesse closed his eyes tightly so he wouldn't be distracted by the horrendous mess and curled his fingers through Andrew's belt loops.

\--

Jesse had two cats named Mr. Rochester and Mrs. Honeychurch, and obviously they loved Andrew the minute he came home with Jesse. They were a little more wary of him when he moved in properly, mostly because he tripled the volume in Jesse's apartment all by himself. Then Mr. Rochester realized he could jump from box to box, and that empty boxes could be jumped into, and the cats wanted nothing to do with the people anymore because they had very important chasing each other to do.

"No one owns this many pairs of jeans," said Jesse disbelievingly, watching Andrew unpack.

"You've only got two pairs of trousers, Jesse. Two. In your entire flat. What if one gets a stain?" Andrew countered.

"I'll wear the other one," Jesse said.

Andrew, poking through Jesse's dresser, burst out laughing. "Oh my god. You haven't got spare drawers for me at all; these drawers are full of books! Is the nearly-empty wardrobe also full of books?"

Jesse's extremely long pause, trying to come up with a non-incriminating answer for that, made Andrew start laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bed. "It is! You own two jumpers and a wardrobe full of books. You're a book hoarder. I love you so much."

"We can move the books," Jesse said, although at the moment there was nowhere to move them to. "Uh. To the kitchen cupboards, maybe?"

"And put the dishes on the couch and you and I will have to get another flat to sit in?" Andrew said.

That was a fair point. "Okay," Jesse sighed. "I can take a bunch of the books I never read to my mom's house in Jersey."

"That's a very noble sacrifice."

"Yes, I'm a martyr to my marriage," Jesse said, rolling his eyes. "I'd rather have you than books."

Andrew gasped. "Would you _really_?" he asked teasingly. "I can't believe you prefer _anyone_ to books."

"You really can't imagine how many times in school someone said to me, 'If you like books so much why don't you marry them?'" Jesse said. "But I didn't, did I?"

Andrew went from pretending to be delighted to sincerely taken aback. "Jesse," he said, sounding choked up.

Jesse shrugged, trying not to look embarrassed. "I don't understand why you have bright red pants. Or bright green pants. Where on earth do you wear those?"

"Sometimes I just like dressing like an Easter egg," Andrew said, letting him change the subject. The cats came racing through the room and got into a wrestling match on top of Andrew's pile of neon-colored sneakers. "We'll have to get you some more clothes; you make me feel like Marie Antoinette living with a monk."

Jesse made a face, because he hated shopping for clothes, although he suspected it might not be so bad if he had Andrew with him.

\--

Jesse's plan to get out of bed without waking Andrew up was foiled by the fact that Andrew had an arm wound around him and got clingier somehow when Jesse tried to move. "Andrew," Jesse whispered, "stop pretending to be asleep and let me get up. I have work."

Andrew groaned dramatically and rolled over so his head was on Jesse's chest and his leg was between Jesse's, arms wrapped around Jesse's chest. "Don't go," he mumbled. "Stay here with me. It's cold outside."

"I have a job," Jesse pointed out. Andrew was warm and heavy and comfortable on top of him; it was hard for Jesse to think why he cared that much about going to his job.

"No, stay here with me forever instead." Andrew settled against him, muscles relaxing as he started to fall asleep again.

Jesse sighed. Honestly, Emma would probably cover for him if he called in late to work because of Andrew. But Jesse was never late to anything; being late made him itchy. "Just because you don't get up until noon doesn't mean I can sleep in," Jesse said.

"Why?" Andrew moaned. "If your column is late who gets hurt? But if you leave I'll die of loneliness."

"Yes," said Jesse dryly. "That seems likely." He couldn't squirm out from underneath Andrew with any kind of dignity, so he kissed Andrew instead. Andrew made a happy noise and perked up a little bit. Jesse slid his hands down Andrew's warm back – Andrew was always a furnace – until they were resting on his ass. Andrew made a goofy, growly noise and started biting at Jesse's mouth and then his jaw. Jesse waited until he was a little distracted and then rolled them over. He propped himself up with both arms, kneeling over Andrew and kissed him some more, gentling the kisses where Andrew would have happily gotten faster and more energetic.

"I really have to go to work," Jesse said finally, apologetically. His mouth felt chapped and a little raw. Andrew needed a shave.

"No," Andrew moaned, letting his arms flop to the sides. "You can't leave me now." He rolled his hips up, letting Jesse feel that he was getting hard already.

"I… I can't be late to work because we're having sex," Jesse said. "What would Justin say?"

"'Way to go, Eisenberg,' probably," Andrew said. He ran his thumbnail over Jesse's nipple and down his stomach. "You won't be _very_ late. We didn't even get a honeymoon."

Jesse had so much trouble keeping his resolutions to be good when Andrew was looking at him with his eyes half-shut and his mouth red and bitten and he was naked and warm in their bed. "I can't be more than half an hour late," Jesse said finally.

"Deal!" said Andrew happily, pulling Jesse down for another kiss.

Jesse was nearly an hour late. Emma gave him a knowing look and said, "This isn't going to be an every day thing, is it?" Justin wolf-whistled and yelled, "You got a bite mark on your neck, son!" It was still worth it.

\--

"So?" Emma leaned over the edge of Jesse's desk, hair held up in a bun with a pen, terrifyingly intense look on her face. "How were the first two weeks of being married?"

"Basically like all the other weeks of my life, except my living room is full of boxes and there's a lot more sex," Jesse replied, not looking up from his computer.

"You were late four days," Emma said. "You've never been late before."

Jesse sighed. "Andrew doesn't have to get up until noon. He stays up later than I'm used to and then I have trouble getting up in the morning."

"So it's not just all the hot sex?" Emma asked. Jesse's face got hot, and he refused to reply to that. "I thought so," Emma said smugly.

"Seriously, he has no sense of when normal people get up in the morning. All his friends are actors; they think noon is an early start to the day. I feel weird going to bed before him, and nights his show is on he doesn't get home until eleven. I don't see him all day so… Yeah, I have a little trouble getting out of bed."

Emma cooed at him. "That’s so _sweet_."

Jesse shrugged. "I figure I'll adjust. I've never tried being married before. There's gonna be a transition, right?"

"You know you could have moved in together first, _then_ gotten married, right?" Emma asked. "No one would have given you the fish-eye for living in sin."

"But then I wouldn't be married to Andrew," Jesse said, just barely above a mumble. He was so embarrassed about how sincerely he was in love with Andrew that it was almost unbearable to discuss in public.

Emma might have looked a little bit teary. "Oh," she said.

"Shut up, go away; I'm writing," Jesse ordered, flustered. "Shoo."

"I hope you're this happy you married him forever," Emma said, and went back to her desk.

Jesse hadn't really considered that he ever wouldn't be. He frowned for a second, and then pushed it aside and went back to work.

\--

Jesse had to step over a box to get to the couch. If Andrew were home he would have said something, maybe, "Hey, so, how long are we planning to have this box right here?" or "Is this box our new third roommate?" But Andrew wasn't home; he was in a show that ran six nights a week for another two weeks. Jesse could tell he wasn't home because when he was home the television was always, always on.

He probably wouldn't mind if Jesse did all the unpacking himself. At least, Jesse was forced to assume he wouldn't mind, because so far Andrew had barely unpacked anything. Half the kitchen was still boxes and there was a pile of sneakers and jeans in the bedroom that the cats were assuming was their new permanent bed. When Andrew was home he was excited about seeing Jesse, having sex, and hanging out, but so far he hadn't been excited about unpacking.

Jesse was dismayed to realize that everything Andrew had packed from his old place was haphazardly tossed into boxes; the big box in the middle of the room had a saucepan, two sweaters, a set of Lord of the Rings DVDs, a calendar, a plastic bag of unmatched spoons, a fedora, a box of pop-tarts, and a random collection of paperclips and pens that seemed to have been tossed in at the last minute. "Oh, Andrew," said Jesse fondly to himself, and started making piles.

Andrew got home late, as usual. "Honey, I’m home!" he sang at the door.

"You say that every night," said Jesse, not looking up.

"Well I'm home and you're my – what on earth are you doing?" Andrew stopped at the edge of the living room.

Jesse had made a series of very logical piles; Andrew's clothes were next to the bedroom, kitchen stuff was by the kitchen, DVDs were by the television, random and assorted things that only Andrew could possibly identify were in the middle of the floor. Why did he own a beret? Why did he have a tiny plastic pony doll? There were some photographs, a pile of old scripts, and a couple of glass jars that seemed to be full of jelly beans.

"I'm getting you unpacked," Jesse said.

Andrew dropped his bag and frowned. "I'm sorry, I was going to do that, I… I guess I just forgot to get started," he said. "Are you completely pissed off?"

Jesse had planned on being a little annoyed, but he found he couldn't do it very well with Andrew right there looking apologetic. "It's so it looks like you live here," he said instead. "And because I keep bumping my shins on things."

"Oh, your poor shins," said Andrew, coming over to sit next to him. "I am so sorry." He leaned in and kissed Jesse, and Jesse kissed him for a minute before pulling back.

"No, hang on; if we do that I'm never going to get your stuff out of the living room," Jesse said firmly.

Andrew looked contrite. "I'll put it all away, don't worry."

Jesse pushed Andrew's hands away from his neatly organized piles. "Stop, stop, stop. This is a whole discussion. Like, you brought frying pans but I already have frying pans. Whose are we going to keep? And why do you have jars of jelly beans? Is it a creepy thing? Should I be worried?"

"I got those frying pans from a table on a pavement at a flea market in a car park. I think we can keep yours," said Andrew. "And the jelly beans were a present from Carey. It's a really long story. I can tell you about it if you'd like." He didn't sound like he meant it, though, because he leaned over and started biting Jesse's ear in a really distracting way.

"You have eight different kinds of tea here," said Jesse, trying really hard not to be distracted. "I can't believe you packed tea. We can buy more tea."

"Not this tea," said Andrew, affronted. "My mum brought me those from home so I wouldn't get homesick."

"So… we're keeping all this tea?"

"Yes," said Andrew firmly. He scraped his teeth along Jesse's jaw and Jesse closed his eyes and shuddered. "I need all that tea."

"Okay," said Jesse. His voice was a little bit strained but he wasn't going to be stopped from getting these boxes out of his apartment. "Where are we going to put it?"

Andrew stopped sucking on Jesse's neck long enough to look around. "I don't know. I suppose we'll have to move some of your stuff around to make space. Why have you got all of Hallie's yearbooks and a bookshelf full of dolls?"

"Because she's my sister and she was voted Most Likely To Succeed and Prettiest Hair," said Jesse. "And those were presents from her. She sent me that duck when she spent the summer in California and – You're not listening."

"Your family has definitely got the prettiest hair," said Andrew. He was running his fingers distractingly through it, tugging on a curl here and there.

Jesse sighed. "When you do that I really want to blow you. If we take a break from this, you have to swear you'll come back after and help me put stuff away."

"Deal," said Andrew immediately. He grabbed Jesse's hands and started pulling him to his feet. "That's the most motivating thing I've ever heard, I'll put _everything_ away."

"No, you won't," said Jesse, laughing, but he was a lot more interested in getting Andrew naked than in going through the pile of dishes anyway.

\--

Andrew's play ran on Saturday nights, too, so Jesse went out to Jersey without him to help his mom clean out her rec room. It was full of the detritus of his and Hallie's childhoods, and she'd always sworn she'd keep everything exactly the way it was forever. Only now Jesse was married and that meant she could throw out the bouncy swing and donate the boxes of baby clothes, apparently.

"I love you, but you must be the reason Andrew accused me of being a hoarder," said Jesse, looking at a box marked "Hallie's Macaroni Art: First Grade."

"I've been to your apartment, sweetheart. You're going to need to move to a bigger place just for the books," she said. "Do you want this?"

Jesse squinted at what she was holding up. It was a sock that had been turned into an approximation of a horse's head and stuffed on a broom handle. "Why would I want that?"

"It was your favorite when you were little," she said wistfully. "I guess I'll donate it."

"Sure," said Jesse, privately wondering who was going to want a sock horse on a broomstick.

"If we get the rec room all cleaned out this weekend then I'm going to start redecorating," his mom said. "Can you come out next weekend and help me repaint the bathroom? I want it to be green."

"Yeah, of course," said Jesse.

She beamed at him. "I was a little worried when you got married I might see less of you. My little boy, getting too big and busy for me."

Jesse fidgeted uncomfortably and decided to change the subject. "Do you really need my kindergarten graduation robe?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm keeping that forever. I'm going to hang it next to your high school graduation cap and your college graduation cap. My baby is _married_." She clutched the hobby horse against her chest, eyes getting teary.

"Mom, c'mon," said Jesse.

She sniffled a little. "Sweetheart, I'm just so happy for you. And so glad I haven't lost my baby."

Jesse sighed, "I'm not a baby, I haven't been a baby in years."

"You'll always be _my_ baby," she said firmly, hugging him. She only came up to his chin, which still always surprised him. "Do you think you and Andrew could use this? It's a mug you made when you were in fifth grade. Hallie dropped it and chipped the handle and cried all afternoon, remember?"

"We can buy our own mugs, now, mom," Jesse said, but somehow the mug was in his bag when he caught the train home that night.

\--

Andrew's jacket was in the middle of the living room floor, and the television was quietly flashing images of people cooking, so presumably he was home. Jesse stared at his jacket for a minute. There was a perfectly good coat stand by the door to the apartment; why on earth was Andrew's coat on the floor? Maybe, Jesse reasoned, Andrew had hung it up and then it had slipped off the peg somehow, and then the cats had dragged it into the middle of the floor.

On the other hand, it was right next to his sneakers and his bag, so maybe Andrew had melted on his way in and this was all that was left. What a tragic, and tragically messy, way to go, Jesse thought, shaking his head.

Jesse picked up Andrew's jacket and hung it up and put his sneakers by the wall and his bag on the couch. It helped a little. There was so much stuff in his apartment, suddenly, and still a few boxes to be unpacked. Andrew's habit of leaving his things all over the floor meant everything he owned was now covered in Mrs. Honeychurch's fur.

"Hello," said Andrew sleepily, coming out of the bedroom. He'd stripped down to his boxers, which meant his jeans and shirt were on Jesse's bedroom floor somewhere. "You're home."

"I am," Jesse agreed. "I thought you had a show?"

"Power outage," Andrew yawned. "They told us not to bother coming in."

Jesse stared at him. "Why is the TV on if you're napping? Have you been asleep the entire time I've been at work? That… That's the least fair thing I've ever heard."

"It's your own fault for having a proper job," said Andrew. He pressed himself up against Jesse and started kissing his way down Jesse's neck. "Mmm. You should have called in sick and stayed home with me all day."

"I'm doing a series on the Mostly Mozart festival, I have deadlines," said Jesse distractedly. "Seriously, you napped all day?"

"No," said Andrew. "I went out and grocery shopped and bought cat food and a little jingly ball they've been chasing up and down the hall, and I went to the post office, and I had an audition. Then I watched the Barefoot Contessa make crepes, and then I went back to bed. Very long day."

"I can see where that would be tiring, sure," Jesse agreed. He pushed Andrew against the nearest flat surface – a bookshelf – and kissed him. "Why do you hate my coat rack?"

Andrew blinked. "What?"

"The coat rack. Why do you hate it so much?"

"I can honestly say I have no strong feelings about your coat rack one way or the other," Andrew said.

Jesse rolled his eyes. "If you remember to hang your coat up, I will totally make it worth your while." He pressed his fingers against Andrew's hips, running his thumb along the line of muscles on Andrew's stomach.

"Fuck, I forgot again," said Andrew. "I'm an adult, you really shouldn't need to bribe me with sex for this, I know."

"But I don't really mind," Jesse said.

Andrew had his adorable determined face on. "No, I keep forgetting, and it's crap. I can do this. Do you want me to tidy?"

Jesse didn't want that, because Andrew put everything away wrong and he tended to overspray cleaning products on things and then Jesse worried about the cats licking them later. "Maybe just remember to turn the television off. Or you could just let this bribe thing play itself out," he suggested. "That wouldn't be so bad, right?"

Andrew kissed him, but it was quick and serious. "I'm going to go put all my things away. There are still boxes in your way."

"You aren't in my way," Jesse said, but Andrew pushed past him. He opened one of the boxes and proceeded to start making a mess. Jesse tried not to wince because Andrew was well-intentioned, and he did want to show he was appreciating Andrew's effort. He hovered for a minute, trying to decide how best to help without looking like he didn't trust Andrew.

"Go and sit and read your book," Andrew ordered. "I'm doing this myself. I left the mess."

"No, but I—"

Andrew gave him a stern look which wasn't very stern at all. "I've had boxes here for three weeks, nearly. Let me put them away. I won't break anything." Mr. Rochester came running over, crying sadly and pawing at the open box until Andrew let him jump into it.

Jesse went over and sat down on the couch. He opened up his book and gave it a good-faith try, but he couldn't concentrate when every couple of minutes a cat had to run fleeing from a toppling pile of DVDs or Andrew started swearing and muttering, "Now where should this go?"

Andrew caught him staring concernedly. "Stop it," Andrew scolded. "I can do this just fine."

"But I could do it faster," Jesse said, holding his book a little too tightly.

"It's my turn," Andrew insisted. "I'm going to tidy and you're not allowed to help. Not at all."

Jesse chewed anxiously on his lower lip. "Um. Okay. Well. But… But I could—"

"No," said Andrew. "I have all the help I need from Mr. Rochester."

Jesse didn't say anything else, he just gave Mrs. Honeychurch a long and dubious look. Mrs. Honeychurch licked one paw delicately, which Jesse took as agreement.

\--

Andrew's show's run ended and he had a cast party. Jesse had met most of his cast over the last couple of months, so it wasn't as awful as it might have been, but it was still a bit overwhelming. Andrew was the sort of person who walked into a room and everyone yelled, "Hey!" and wanted to hug him or congratulate him. Jesse lurked a couple of steps behind him, trying not to be noticed too much.

Of course everyone knew that Andrew had spontaneously gotten married, so it wasn't really possible for Jesse to avoid attention. Actors were huggy people, and Jesse tried to take hugs from strangers in the spirit in which they were intended. It was loud, though, and crowded, and he was really worried that Andrew might get pulled away into the mass of people who all knew and adored him, and Jesse would be left by himself standing by the wall clutching a drink he didn't want.

Andrew slipped his hand into Jesse's and squeezed reassuringly. "Do try to remember to breathe," he said, mouth against Jesse's ear. "And if you need to leave, tell me, so I can make our excuses."

"I wouldn't drag you away from your own party," said Jesse. Andrew just shook his head and squeezed Jesse's hand again. Jesse loved him a lot.

Carey, one of Andrew's costars and best friends, gave Jesse a particularly long hug and pulled both of them away from the crowd into the kitchen, where it was a little bit quieter. "How's married life?" she asked excitedly.

"Wonderful," said Andrew. Jesse tried not to smile at him too much.

"Have you had a party yet? Or a honeymoon?"

"One of my friends is planning a thing," said Jesse. "When I know where it's going to be I'll tell Andrew and he can tell everyone."

Andrew said distractedly, "It's going to be next month at Woody's house in Jersey." Jesse gave him a funny look. "Justin and I have been talking about it on Facebook. You could get one—"

"Ugh," said Jesse.

Andrew laughed. "Right, well, that's why it's being planned without you."

"I work with him every day, though." Jesse frowned to himself. He would have to track down Justin and find out what kind of party, exactly, he'd signed himself up for.

Carey clapped her hands. "I love a party! What are you doing this weekend? You know Matt's having a winter barbecue on the roof on Saturday, and now you're not working on Saturdays anymore."

"Oh, I love his winter barbecue," said Andrew.

Jesse bit his lip. "I'd love to, but I'm heading out to Jersey to see my mom," he said. Andrew's face fell. "You should go, it sounds awesome, you can text me a lot."

"Oh, but…" Andrew scrunched his face up a little. "You were out at your mum's last weekend, and the weekend before that."

"She's redecorating," Jesse explained. "I'm helping her move stuff around."

"Aww," said Carey.

Andrew fidgeted a little bit. "What?" Jesse asked. "It's not – I'm not ditching you, I promised mom I'd help her with the bathroom."

"I know, but it's my first weekend where I'm not working since we got married. Oh well; it's fine. There's always the weekend after that."

Jesse was pretty sure he'd promised to help his mom that weekend, too, but he didn't say anything because it seemed a little rude to have a conversation like this in front of Carey.

Carey said, "So, what does your family think about you suddenly getting married to an American? Are they upset? Have they met Jesse?"

Andrew relaxed and laughed and told her about how his brother had yelled at him for hours and then slammed his laptop shut during a Skype session because he was so annoyed at having missed the wedding. "We're going to fly out this spring when we both have time off so they can take pictures and my mum can cry."

"I'm going to cry so hard at your party," Carey said. "God, you're so cute. I’m glad you brought him tonight." She hugged Andrew and then she hugged Jesse, and Jesse managed not to mind at all.

\--

Andrew said, "Come shopping with me. Come shopping with me! Jesse, please, come shopping, _please_ , please come with me, _pleeeeease_!" and Jesse found himself downtown, being dragged in and out of boutiques full of people who looked mildly horrified at Jesse's t-shirt and out-of-season jeans. Did jeans have seasons? Anyway, his were at least ten years old.

Andrew liked trying on clothes, and they all looked great on him. Jesse was totally on board with that. He was less comfortable when Andrew began to put things in his arms and say, "This is going to look amazing," and "I love that color on you."

"I thought this was mostly a you-shopping trip," Jesse said hopefully. Andrew gave him the sad, pleading face, and Jesse sighed and found himself agreeing to be pushed into dressing rooms, no matter how terrible he was sure he would look in a plaid shirt.

It was a big, empty changing room at the end of a long hall, at the far end of the store from the bored woman standing by the register. Andrew followed Jesse into the changing room and locked the door behind him. "If I don't follow you, you'll just tell me it looks awful and refuse to show me," Andrew said.

That was true, but not fair. "Well, it probably _will_ look terrible," Jesse said. He considered the jeans to be especially dubious.

Andrew sat down expectantly on the bench across from the mirror. The lights were entirely too bright, and it made Jesse feel a little like he was being interrogated. "I'll be the judge of that," Andrew said. Jesse made a face. "I'm the one who has to look at you all day," Andrew reasoned. "I should get to enjoy it."

"This is dumb," Jesse grumbled. He kicked off his sneakers and his old jeans, folding them neatly before he put them on the bench by Andrew, who rolled his eyes. The jeans Andrew had picked were as struggle to get on, although in fairness they weren't as tight as the jeans Andrew himself was wearing. The shirt was too tight, too, and it was _plaid_ , and Jesse felt ridiculous. "See?" he said.

"Try this shirt," said Andrew, handing him another one. Andrew had a funny look on his face, biting his lower lip. He was watching Jesse a little more intently than Jesse was used to, even from Andrew.

Jesse put on the other shirt, instead. He didn't actually see any difference between them; every shirt was just a shirt, and if Jesse could have worn the same shirt until it fell apart he would have. Life was easier that way. "Is this… Does this make things better?" he asked hopefully, because maybe if he just agreed with Andrew about all this they could go home.

"You have absolutely no idea how gorgeous you are," said Andrew.

Jesse rolled his eyes. "You're delusional. Also, you're married to me. No one has ever thought—"

"Of course they have." Andrew stood up. He pushed Jesse against the mirror, and Jesse huffed out a little surprised puff of air before Andrew kissed him. Andrew's hands were _everywhere_ , up underneath the new shirt, pressing into Jesse's hips and holding him against the wall. "God," Andrew muttered, biting at Jesse's mouth, "I want to take all these clothes right back off you."

"Yes, please," said Jesse. "We can go home and—"

Andrew dropped to his knees, hands still on Jesse's hips. "Love these on you," Andrew said, pressing his open mouth against Jesse's stomach, just above the button on his jeans.

Jesse's heart was trying to thump its way out of his chest, maybe because all the blood in his body had just gone straight to his cock. "Whoa," said Jesse. "This is… We're in public."

"I know," said Andrew, grinning up at him for just a second. He undid the button on the jeans and shoved them down Jesse's thighs, along with his underwear.

"We _can't_ \---" Jesse squeaked.

Andrew bit him gently on his inner thigh and looked at him, heavy-lidded and wolfish. "I wonder if you can be quiet," Andrew said, and then he took Jesse's cock into his mouth.

Jesse had never had a blowjob standing up against a mirror in what was, arguably, a public space. He wouldn't have thought sheer terror would have been a turn on, but he was already so hard it ached. His head thumped back against the mirror and he bit his own lip so he wouldn't accidentally shout. Andrew's mouth was amazing, and he was so enthusiastic. It wasn't Jesse who was having trouble being entirely quiet, it was Andrew. He hummed and purred and laughed to himself, and it all made Jesse's toes curl in his socks. He was mostly vertical because Andrew had his hands on Jesse's thighs, fingers digging bruises into the pale skin there.

The woman from the front of the store called, "Can I get you two anything in any other sizes?"

Andrew's mouth was occupied, so Jesse panicked and shouted, "No, we're fine! This is perfect!" His voice was terrifyingly loud and suspiciously shaky, he thought. He needed her to go away before he had a heart attack. Andrew laughed and sucked a little harder, running his tongue along the bottom of Jesse's dick. His head jerked back without his permission, hitting the wall behind him. He hoped he hadn't cracked the glass. He tasted blood where he was biting his lip, trying not to groan, because the only noises in the dressing room were his own heavy breathing and the absolutely obscene noises Andrew was making.

"I – I – Uh, Andrew—" Jesse said, which was as polite a warning as he could manage before the feeling like heavy lightning crashed over him and he came. Andrew swallowed and pulled off, gagging a little, keeping his hands on Jesse's hips when Jesse sank shakily to the floor.

Jesse wondered if he would be allowed to just curl up and go to sleep on the floor of the dressing room. He'd left sweaty handprints all over the mirror. Probably an ass-print too, oh god. "What if they have cameras?" he asked. His voice was gravelly and exhausted, which was funny, because Andrew had done all the work.

Andrew shrugged. "Then some security guard got quite a show."

"We're going to have to live in here forever. I can never go out and face that woman," Jesse told him seriously.

Andrew laughed. His voice was a little raw, too. " _Fuck_ , I love those jeans."

Jesse winced. "Well, now I guess we have to buy them." Andrew had popped a button off the shirt, and Jesse refused to think about what they'd just done to jeans that still had the tags on them.

Andrew beamed at him. "This is my new favorite shopping trip _ever_."

\--

With Andrew's show done he was home most of the day. He made dinner, which was nice. It turned out he was a big fan of cooking blogs and watching the cooking channels and then trying recipes that involved really strange ingredients

"Yeah, he made… What is this, coriander chicken? It's delicious. And rosemary mashed potatoes with tarragon, and some kind of glazed carrots." It was a little weird, and more than Jesse was used to eating so early after work.

"That sounds wonderful," Jesse's mom said, on the phone. "Tell him he can come over and cook for me any time he wants."

"Mom says you should go over and cook for her," said Jesse. Andrew gave him a funny look. Jesse shrugged at him and told his mom, "I was a little worried when he just came home with pop tarts the first time he shopped, but apparently he's all about cooking?"

"Which is nice, because you always look so skinny, honey."

Jesse sighed at her.

"Is she saying you always look too skinny? Because she's right," said Andrew.

"I should go," Jesse said to her, "since you're both ganging up on me, now."

"That’s nice," she said placidly. "Love you, I'll see you on Saturday."

Jesse hung up and put his phone on the counter. "I'll wash the dishes, since you did all the cooking." And since Andrew had left the wreckage of all his cooking out, scattered across the kitchen. Jesse was pretty sure he'd used every single bowl they owned.

"I was home and bored all day. I've got an audition next week, and I have that children's program coming up and my trip to L.A., but this week is going to be dull." Andrew sighed and gave Jesse that funny look again.

"What?" Jesse asked, putting plates and silverware and knives and the cutting board in the sink.

"I just… I haven't been around in the evenings, I suppose. Do you call your mum every night?"

"Pretty much. She gets lonely."

"Hmm," said Andrew.

Jesse's shoulders hitched up with just the tiniest bit of defensiveness. "What?" he repeated. "Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not," said Andrew. He was using his soothing voice, which meant he thought Jesse was being slightly crazy. That didn't make Jesse feel any less defensive.

"You Skype your parents all the time," Jesse pointed out.

"Right, because they live far away. Your mum's a twenty-minute train ride and you see her every week."

Jesse took a deep breath to start arguing, but Andrew came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Jesse's waist, chin on Jesse's shoulder.

"I think it's really sweet," Andrew said.

"You think it's weird," Jesse said certainly.

Andrew kissed his neck. "I knew you were close to your family when I married you, remember? I think it's lovely."

"Oh," said Jesse, deflating a little. "Well… That's good, then, I guess."

Andrew chuckled. "What if I come out with you this weekend to visit?"

"You have that barbecue thing at Matt's."

"Right, but… What if I skip it this weekend, and next weekend we stay home and don't get out of bed all day." Andrew had plastered himself to Jesse's back like a warm blanket.

Jesse fidgeted a little. "I mean… I'm supposed to go to my mom's, she won't be done with the house, and—"

Andrew sighed and hid his face against Jesse's neck. He didn't say anything, though, which Jesse found twice as painful as he would have found whining.

"I guess…" Jesse said, biting his lip. "Andrew, she's my _mom_! I can't just cancel on her. But maybe if we go out this weekend and we get a lot of the stuff moved and painted, she'll understand if I can't get out next weekend."

"I don't want to take you away from your family," Andrew said carefully. "I just want you all to myself now and then."

"I know, I know, and that's totally fair, but it's hard because it's not… There's never been anyone I'd prioritize over her before, so you have to give me some time to adjust, okay?" Jesse said. "I'll try. She's really good at guilt." He turned around to face Andrew, who promptly backed him up against the sink and kissed him.

"We should take a proper honeymoon," Andrew said. "Even if we just take a week off of everything and lock the front door and turn off the phones."

"Sure," Jesse said, laughing a little. "You can get it all out of your system."

"I am never getting you out of my system," Andrew told him seriously. Jesse never knew what to do when Andrew was sincere like that, so he kissed him again instead of saying anything.

\--

Jesse was still feeling a little raw after work. It hadn't been a fight with Andrew, exactly, but it was the closest they'd gotten and he felt shitty about it. So when the local shelter called him and said they had an emergency, he went straight over.

Andrew was out visiting Matt or one of his ten million other acting friends. It made it easier, because the kitten, in addition to having a terrible case of shelter cough and a runny eye, was terrified of everyone and everything. Jesse put him in the bedroom and shut the other two cats out, because the kitten cried pitifully whenever they sniffed around him.

Jesse had no idea if he was making dinner for himself or for Andrew, too. He sent Andrew a text, but Andrew didn't reply, which wasn't that unusual. Jesse decided to make extra and put it in the fridge. He wasn't used to cooking for two and he wasn't used to Andrew's weird schedule.

He had to check on the kitten and give it a shot – the kitten didn’t appreciate that at all and spent half an hour hiding in the farthest corner underneath the bed – and that's where he was when Andrew got home, half under the bed making a silly kissing coaxing noise at a little grey kitten that wanted nothing to do with him after he'd been so mean.

"Huh," said Andrew. "Have you lost something?"

"A kitten," said Jesse gloomily.

Andrew raised a confused but polite eyebrow.

Jesse gave up and crawled properly under the bed, which made the kitten yowl in terror and run out from under the bed. Mrs. Honeychurch saw it and prepared to jump on it, probably in a friendly way, but Andrew grabbed the kitten and scooped it up. "Ow," he said. "Ow, fuck, ow, its claws are like needles."

"Sorry," said Jesse, brushing dust off his jeans. "He needed a shot and he didn't like me much after that."

"No," said Andrew, petting the kitten, "I don't think I'd like you much after that, either."

"Lies," said Jesse. "You promised to like me always." He pried the kitten off Andrew's arm and tried to calm it down with petting, but it cried and stuck its tiny claws into his arm right through his shirt.

"I promised to love you always," Andrew corrected him. "I'm allowed to dislike you slightly if you stick needles in me."

"Mmm," said Jesse, frowning at him a little bit. Mr. Rochester circled Jesse's ankles, looking for attention. Andrew leaned down and petted him.

"So," said Andrew. "I'd rather thought if we were going to adopt we might have a conversation about it first."

Jesse's cheeks got a little hot. "I didn't adopt him," he said. "The shelter called and he's sick and he needs medicine from an eyedropper and eyedrops. He's scared of the other animals and I was feeling guilty, so I said I'd take him. It's just for a couple of weeks. Probably."

"Probably," Andrew echoed. "Er. Can I ask what you were feeling guilty about? A lack of sick orphaned kittens in your life? We can get as many as you'd like."

Jesse sat down on the floor next to Andrew, who shooed the grown-up cats out of the bedroom and shut the door. "Oh," he said. "No. Not that." The kitten had started, very tentatively, to purr. "His name is Ghost, which is a terrible name for a cat."

"Not very literary at all," Andrew agreed gravely. Jesse sighed because he knew Andrew was, very gently, making fun of him. "What about whatever Hamlet's father's name was? He's a ghost."

"His name was also Hamlet," Jesse said. "That's confusing."

"So we'll call him King Hamlet's Ghost," Andrew said.

Jesse rolled his eyes. "We're not keeping him. He doesn't need a good name."

Andrew appropriated the kitten, who was purring on and off like a faulty motor on a cold morning. "King Hamlet's Ghost doesn't appreciate you taking his future so lightly," Andrew said. "He might be from the shelter but he has _feelings._ "

Jesse tried to stop himself from feeling stupidly fond but he couldn't manage it. "Stop it. If you keep doing that we'll end up with a hundred kittens."

"Then King Hamlet's Ghost won't be lonely, will he?" Andrew had made friends with the kitten, who rolled over so he could bat at Andrew's fingers. It was the first thing he'd done all day that hadn't looked terrified. "Are you done changing the subject yet?"

Jesse said, "No?"

"Okay. We can sit here and play with the kitten instead."

"I just – I don't know how to _fix_ it, so—"

"It's fine," Andrew repeated steadily. "I'm married to you; I have plenty of time to figure out what makes you tick. See how clever my plan is?"

Jesse thought about calling his mom and saying he couldn't come out this weekend, or maybe ever again. He thought about telling Andrew that he was sorry, but his weekends were basically booked for the rest of his life because his mom was never going to stop being his mom. He thought about bringing home a hundred more cats out of irreconcilable guilt.

"You don't mind coming out to Jersey this weekend, do you?" he asked.

Andrew crinkled up the corners of his eyes, smiling fondly. "I love your mum," he said. "She's funny, and she has all the cutest pictures of you as a tiny little Jesse with adorable baby curls."

"Ugh," said Jesse.

"And she's very sweet to me despite the fact that I stole her only son." Andrew leaned over and tugged on Jesse's hair. "Is that what you're guilty about?"

"No," Jesse lied.

Andrew put the kitten aside on the floor. King Hamlet's Ghost meowed indignantly and ran into the closet. "My mum says," said Andrew, edging over toward Jesse, "that we should never go to bed angry. Apparently I ought to give you everything you want, because I'm very lucky someone so sensible would have me."

"Shut up, she didn't say that." Jesse had never met Andrew's mother in person, just over Skype. She'd been really nice, but she'd cooled considerably when Jesse and Andrew had run off and gotten married without inviting her.

"She did," said Andrew. "She's quite pleased not to have to worry about me not having a winter coat or wandering into traffic. Her words." He slid his hand on top of Jesse's and pressed them together.

"Well," said Jesse, leaning toward him, "you have to be careful; you have a kitten to think about now." He kissed Andrew, because Andrew was being so nice, and totally lying about his mom, which was even nicer.

Andrew pulled away, but leaned his forehead against Jesse's. "We can go to your mum's a hundred times as long as you invite me," he said, and there was a little bit of a gentle scold in there somewhere, but Jesse didn't mind.

"She'll adopt you and forget all about me," Jesse said plaintively.

Andrew huffed a little laugh against his mouth. "Can we count that as our first married fight and call it done now?" Andrew asked.

"I don't think that counted as a _fight_ \--" Jesse started, but Andrew kissed him again, and then they were busy doing other things, and Jesse didn't really feel like talking any more.

\--

Jesse said, "So how long is that pile of empty boxes going to be in our living room?"

Andrew groaned. "Let's say it's modern art. I've done a modern art installation."

"I thought it was a jungle gym for the cats."

"Yes, that too. Shh, you're interrupting me kissing you."

\--

"When are we flying out to visit my parents?"

Jesse was halfway through the Sunday crossword puzzle. Andrew had the television on in the background as always, so he hadn't noticed Andrew wandering around making coffee. He looked up, frowning a little bit, because as far as he remembered they hadn't really discussed flying to England except as a vague "sometime eventually" idea. "Uh," he said. "Are we doing that?"

"Yes," said Andrew firmly. He was holding his mug in both hands, leaning against the counter. His bedhead was always the most amazing thing; Jesse was sure he'd never get used to it. They'd spent all day Saturday painting Jesse's mom's kitchen and Andrew had talked Jesse around to a Sunday full of doing absolutely nothing, which honestly wasn't very hard to do.

"Oh," said Jesse. "Well, I can take time off pretty much any time except when I'm actively covering the New York Film Festival or something. So I guess whenever you're between shows and we can afford tickets."

Andrew sipped his coffee and Jesse tried to work out a seven-letter word for Shakespeare. "This month won't work; we're busy and I've got that L.A. audition," Andrew said. "And next month I'm doing the Broadway Cares workshop and the kids' show and that weekend young playwriters thing. March, though. We could go in March."

"Sure," said Jesse, distracted. Whenever Andrew wanted to go was fine; Jesse was a light packer and he had a million vacation days. "Just let me know."

Andrew smiled, brilliant and a little goofy. "We should watch a movie. Let's watch a movie on the couch. C'mon; you can bring your crossword puzzle."

"I sort of think by 'watch a movie' you mean 'put a movie on and have sex on the couch,'" Jesse said. "So I don't know that my crossword puzzle is appropriate."

"Hmmm," said Andrew. "Good point. Are you feeling particularly inclined to put your puzzle down?"

Jesse scribbled the clue down in pen and then put the newspaper and his pen down. "Sure," he said. "I guess there's a hole in my schedule today."

"I bet I can fill—"

"Oh my god, _don't_ ," said Jesse, trying not to roll his eyes too hard or laugh.

Andrew looked entirely too proud of himself. "Lazy Sunday," he said, grabbing Jesse's hands and pulling him to his feet. "C'mon."

"Okay, but we have to be quick because I need to grocery shop and mop the kitchen," Jesse said.

"You are the very soul of romance," Andrew replied, and kissed him.

\--

Justin kept throwing paper clips at Jesse's desk until Jesse looked up. "I have party plans," Justin said. "Is next week cool?"

"Whenever is cool," Jesse shrugged, trying to think of a way to describe a show that had mainly consisted of a mostly-naked man on stage playing the bagpipe.

"It's kind of a big deal to me," Justin said, sounding a little bit annoyed. "I care about this more than you do, clearly."

"In fairness," Jesse pointed out, "if we cared, we would have had a party after the actual wedding."

Justin looked pained. He pushed his glasses up and massaged the bridge of his nose. Jesse was fairly sure his glasses had no glass in the lenses. "This weekend?"

"I'm going to Jersey to my mom's," Jesse said.

"Next weekend?"

"Andrew's going to L.A. for an audition thing."

Justin sighed. "You're making my life really hard," he warned. "Do you want this party to be the most amazing experience of your life or not?"

"I do, I promise, I'm excited," Jesse said. "You're being really nice. We appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"You better," Justin grumbled. "I'm being really fucking thoughtful, okay?"

Jesse tried to school his face to look properly grateful for the strippers or stripping dancers or the hot stripping cops or whatever it was Justin had arranged.

\--

Andrew was home all day and clearly starting to go stir crazy.

"Hi," said Jesse, putting his knapsack down by the door. "What did you do today?" The kitchen was a disaster, bowls and spoons and dirty dishes everywhere, and the smoke detector was disassembled and sitting on the table. Mrs. Honeychurch was sitting under the table with her tail swishing disapprovingly back and forth. Mr. Rochester was in the sink, licking something. King Hamlet's Ghost was lurking in the bedroom door, but he fled back to the closet when Jesse thumped the apartment door shut.

"I've made banana bread and lasagna and soup," said Andrew. There was a smudge of flour on his cheekbone and Jesse wanted to lick it off, but Andrew also looked a little tired and frazzled. "I promised your mum I'd feed you up."

"That's totally unnecessary," said Jesse. "But sure. C'mere." He leaned in to kiss Andrew hello, and thanks for all the cooking, and maybe an offer to do the dishes.

Andrew kissed him back perfunctorily and then leaned back. "No," he said. "Don't attempt to use your wiles on me, Mister Eisenberg."

Jesse was confused. "I don't know for sure that I have wiles."

"How do you think you tricked me into marrying you, then?" Andrew asked. "Wiles. Anyway, I'm not done cooking and I've got to clean the kitchen. I thought I'd get it done before you got home but… well. I haven't."

"I tricked you into marrying me?"

Andrew flapped a hand around, scaring Mr. Rochester, who hopped out of the sink and ran into the bedroom. "You were adorable and so serious about the theater and you listened really well. And you do this thing with your hands when you're thinking. I can't – how was I not going to marry you?"

"Huh," said Jesse, fascinated. "A thing? Am I doing it now?"

"No."

Jesse stepped a little bit closer, so his hips were touching Andrew's. "And you don't want me to interrupt you, right?"

"No," said Andrew seriously. "There's another loaf of banana bread in the oven, and I've run out of bowls and wooden spoons. So you just stay over there and go do the crossword or read your extremely boring book about Napoleon in Russia and leave me to it."

It was weird, but the second Andrew wanted to clean up, Jesse wanted to shove him against the fridge. He'd start with kissing, probably, and work up to making Andrew beg. "How long until the bread is done?" Jesse asked.

"About ten minutes," said Andrew, squinting at the microwave. "Was that a challenge?"

"I can do that," said Jesse. He put his hands on Andrew's hips and pushed him back against the counter, kissing him. Andrew made a tiny protesting noise, but it melted into a groan when Jesse put his legs between Andrew's and stepped a little bit closer. Andrew's hands found their way to Jesse's ass, the way they tended to given half a chance.

Jesse pulled back to fumble open the button on Andrew's jeans. "See?" said Andrew breathlessly. "Wiles."

"I didn't do this on our first date," said Jesse. "I wanted to, but I didn't." He fumbled with Andrew's jeans. "Damn it, why are your jeans always so tight? Why don't you just walk around naked all day? I could really work with that."

"Oh my god," said Andrew, delighted. "Is naked cooking a thing for you?"

"You, naked, is a thing for me," said Jesse. "But I don't want you to burn yourself, or splash oil on anything vital."

"Vital?" Andrew asked, and instead of answering, Jesse slid his hand down and cupped Andrew's cock. Andrew groaned again. "Right," Andrew said, voice dropping and getting rougher. "Fuck, you make me feel like I'm fourteen again."

"Awkward?" Jesse suggested.

"Like I'll come if there's a stiff breeze and my maths teacher looks at me wrong," Andrew said. "In my defense, he was awfully attractive."

Jesse laughed and leaned forward to bite Andrew's neck, moving his hand back and forth encouragingly so that Andrew tried to cant his hips forward. "Of course you had a math teacher crush," Jesse sighed. He kissed his way up Andrew's neck and Andrew let his eyes close, head falling backward.

For once Jesse was glad Andrew was terrible at putting things away; it meant the olive oil was handy. A little gross, but not the first time they'd decided the lube was entirely too far away. This was Jesse's real problem with kitchen sex; food wasn't really very sexy. You had to clean it all up afterwards. Getting Andrew hard always made Jesse uncomfortably hard, which was probably some weird thing about their relationship and how codependent Jesse felt all the time, but he ignored it because he really did enjoy getting Andrew off. He could ask his therapist if it was strange later. "You next," Andrew mumbled, not opening his eyes but pressing his fingers against Jesse's ass, digging into his jeans.

"After the bread," Jesse said. And, he added to himself, after he'd done all the dishes because Andrew always did them wrong.

"Mmm," said Andrew, and then, "six minutes," and then, "oh my god, right like that."

Andrew came before the timer went off. Jesse felt pretty proud of himself for that. Andrew leaned over and turned the oven off. "Shower," he said.

"I thought you weren't done cooking—"

" _Shower_ ," Andrew repeated insistently, and dragged Jesse down the hall. Jesse didn't really mind, not even when the banana bread ended up a little burned on top.

\--

Jesse woke up to Andrew stroking a hand slowly up and down his side. Jesse yawned and rolled closer, pulling the blanket up over his shoulder. Andrew laughed quietly.

"You awake?"

"No," said Jesse into Andrew's shoulder.

Andrew kissed the top of his head. "I think we should spend the whole weekend in bed."

"Yes," said Jesse sleepily, and then, "No, I can't. Shit, I forgot to tell mom I was canceling, I promised yesterday I'd help her with the attic."

"We were out there last weekend," Andrew said.

Jesse poked him in the side. "We've already had this fight. You really don’t have to come."

"No, it's not a fight, I'm not—" Andrew started. He sat up, pushing his hair out of his face. Jesse felt a little bit of cold settle in his stomach. "We went out last weekend, and this is my last weekend before I fly out to L.A. We were going to spend it together."

Miserable guilt settled into Jesse's chest, right where he breathed. He sat up, too. "I know. I'm sorry. We can do it next weekend? But I promised my mom I'd help her with this."

"Oh… But… I…" Andrew looked down at his hands. "I'm going away. I'd just… I thought… I hoped that we… Couldn't you skip this one weekend?"

Jesse swallowed unhappily. "I want to," he said. "It's… It's my _mom_ , though."

He thought for a minute Andrew might get annoyed, but mostly he looked sad. "Right," said Andrew. "Well. I’m going to go and make some tea."

"I could… I can call her and tell her I can only come out for a few hours," Jesse offered half-heartedly.

Andrew had climbed out of bed. He waved a dismissive hand. "It's fine; I wouldn't want you to disappoint her. I'll take a cab to the airport on Saturday night and see you again on Wednesday."

"I'll miss you," Jesse said meekly. Andrew shrugged one shoulder and walked out.

By the time Jesse managed to get out of bed, Andrew had already had his tea and gone downtown to a workshop and a meeting. He was normally never out of bed early; he couldn't have sent a clearer message that he was mad at Jesse if he'd written it out on a banner. Jesse tried texting him a couple of times from work but Andrew didn't reply, and Jesse ended up unable to do anything at work all day but stare at the blinking cursor on his computer's screen. When he got home Andrew said he wasn't particularly hungry and sat on the couch watching TV, mostly ignoring Jesse. It was the first time Andrew had ever deliberately sat at the other end of the couch, unless he was ill and afraid of Jesse catching it.

Andrew kept deliberately not looking at him, and Jesse felt a little bit like he might die. "I can call my mom and cancel," Jesse said. His stomach was flipping over unhappily. He didn't like making anyone upset, but apparently making Andrew sad made him actually feel sick.

"No," said Andrew, not looking away from the television. "Don't do that. She's expecting you."

"But… I mean… You're going away," said Jesse.

"Yes," said Andrew. "I am. I think I'll go and take a nap." He clicked the television off.

"It's kind of late for a nap."

"I think maybe I don't feel well, then," said Andrew. "I don't know. I'm going to go and lie down."

"I'll call my mom and—"

Andrew sighed. "Don't. I don't want to make things difficult with her. I'm very fond of your mother, and her disappointed face is awful. When I get back we can… I suppose we should plan these weekends better."

"I'm sorry," Jesse started again, but Andrew just waved him off and went into the bedroom to lie down.

Jesse wasn't sure if it was childish to want to sleep on the couch. If he went into the bedroom Andrew might roll over – away from him -- and that would probably kill Jesse on the spot. He could pretend he'd fallen asleep reading, instead, and then he wouldn't have to risk it. He dragged Mr. Rochester onto the couch with him and forced him to cuddle for a couple of minutes before he yowled and escaped.

When Andrew got back Jesse would sit down with him and a calendar, and work out what they'd do every weekend for the rest of their lives. Then they'd never have to have a fight again.

He was so busy considering pretending to have accidentally fallen asleep on the couch reading his book that he didn't notice when he did.

 

\--

"Did you really fall sleep on the couch?" Andrew asked. Jesse blinked. His neck hurt and King Hamlet's Ghost was crouching on the back of the couch, staring at him.

"Oh," said Jesse. "No, I didn't mean to – Fuck, what time is it?"

"Nearly three." Andrew crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Come to bed, Jess."

It was hard sitting up; every muscle in Jesse's back was mad at him. "I just… I wasn't sure…" he began.

"C'mon," said Andrew, offering Jesse a hand up. "I'm going away tomorrow. I don't want to have to miss you already."

Jesse slid his arms around Andrew's waist and put his face against Andrew's shoulder. "Don't go," he mumbled. "I don't want you to go." Maybe if they didn't talk about it, it would be like everything was fixed.

Andrew seemed to be on the same page. "It's only four days," Andrew said. "I guess I have to go away eventually."

"I don't see why." Jesse paused a little awkwardly. "Are you sure – Tomorrow is—"

Andrew cut him off. "Come on; I can't sleep by myself anymore, apparently." He kissed the top of Jesse's head and pulled him toward the bedroom.

Jesse muttered, "I hope you're miserable in L.A." He climbed into the bed with Andrew, and Mrs. Honeychurch mewled indignantly at them both for disturbing her.

"I will be," Andrew promised. It shouldn't have made Jesse feel any better, but it did.

\--

When Jesse got home from his mom's house in Jersey, Andrew was gone. He'd left a sticky with a heart drawn on it on the fridge and another on the television, but Jesse just felt bereft. King Hamlet's Ghost meowed indignantly at him, sitting by the half-full food dish.

"I know," said Jesse. "I miss him, too." He sat down on the couch. It was the first time in days the television hadn't been on, and even though it had driven him crazy having so much background noise when Andrew moved in, now his apartment felt empty and lonely.

"We should fly out to L.A.," Jesse told Mr. Rochester, who curled up on the back of the couch and went to sleep. "Would that be romantic or would it be pathetic?" The cats didn't offer any opinion beyond King Hamlet's Ghost's increasingly plaintive meows.

\--

"How's L.A.?" Jesse asked.

Andrew's voice was crackly through the phone. "It's bright and it's hot, but the auditions are going well, I think. I can never tell. I miss you. Why am I here for so long?"

"Because you're brilliant and everyone wants you," Jesse said miserably. "Come back."

Andrew sighed. "Some of these parts… I might have to be out here for weeks."

"I'll come with you, then," Jesse said, pushing Mr. Rochester off the counter.

"But then how would you see your mum every weekend?"

Jesse bit his lip, feeling a little rebuked and a little bit annoyed about it, but much more guilty.

"Sorry," Andrew sighed. "I just… I’m sorry. Can you come here, now? Being lonely makes me snappish."

"You're coming back Wednesday, you promised. The… the cats miss you."

"I miss the cats, too," said Andrew. "Will you tell them I miss them, please?"

"You need to tell them in person. King Hamlet's Ghost won't come out of the closet with you away. He hates me because I keep giving him eye drops and shots."

Andrew sighed. "Poor thing. He's so jumpy. Tell him I'll be back Wednesday and we'll have a nice cuddle in the wardrobe."

Jesse didn't have anything else to say that wasn't unbearably whiny or a demand for Andrew to come home. "Okay," he said.

"How's work?" Andrew asked. "Oh – damn it, never mind, I've got my agent calling on the other line, I'll call you right back. I love you."

"Love you, too," said Jesse. He clicked his phone off. He was sure that before Andrew he'd been the kind of person who spent most of his nights and all of his weekend entirely alone. It shouldn't have been difficult to get back to that for a couple of days, especially when he knew Andrew was coming home.

He flipped on the television and tried to imagine what Andrew would watch, but it all looked like stupid nonsense to him. Jesse curled up on the couch with a pillow and the cats and thought about all the things he would rather have been doing with Andrew.

\--

Andrew came home from L.A. looking tan and exhausted. Jesse had made dinner, but Andrew dropped his jacket and his bag by the door, backed Jesse up against the bookshelves, and kissed him until Jesse forgot all about food. The cats circled anxiously around their ankles, meowing and purring and demanding Andrew's attention but he ignored them all, except a quick perfunctory pet for King Hamlet's Ghost, who climbed up the bookshelf and meowed with serious determination.

"I've missed you," said Andrew, which was hardly necessary.

"Come on," said Jesse, grabbing both of Andrew's hands. He pulled Andrew backward into the bedroom and Andrew kicked the door shut, much to the cats' dissatisfaction.

Andrew's hands were already all over Jesse's ass. He kissed his way up the side of Jesse's neck frantically, biting a little and dragging his tongue along as he went.

"Don't go away again, ever," said Jesse, fumbling with the buttons on Andrew's shirt.

"I won't," said Andrew. "I won't, god, I won't." He pulled the zipper down on Jesse's hoodie and shoved it off his shoulders. "Except I might be filming in L.A. next month." He bit Jesse's neck and sucked a bruise on the pale skin there.

"Horrible," said Jesse. He put both hands in Andrew's hair to hold him still long enough to give him a proper kiss. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, and he needed to slow everything down a little. Andrew groaned a little. Jesse gave him a solid push toward the bed and Andrew landed with a bounce and a leer.

"I'll come back," Andrew promised, toeing his sneakers off.

Jesse shook his head. "I'll tell Emma I'm quitting."

"No," said Andrew, grabbing his hand and pulling him down onto the bed. "You'll bring your laptop out to L.A. and write from there."

"That's better," Jesse conceded. He knelt over Andrew, helping him get his jeans off.

"Unfair, you're still dressed," Andrew complained, but he stopped complaining when Jesse took his cock into his mouth. Andrew dug his heels into the bed and arched his hips up, and Jesse laughed and slapped him on the hip. Jesse would have been happy with a fast and dirty blow job and then some playing around, but Andrew grabbed him and pulled him up into a kiss and then rolled them over so he was on top and he could pull Jesse's clothes off and kiss him breathless again.

"We haven't really gotten to have honeymoon sex, have we?" Jesse asked. Andrew bit his nipple and let his hands roam back towards Jesse's ass.

"Or make-up sex," Andrew said.

"We'd have to fight for that—" Jesse started to point out, and then Andrew's fingers distracted him entirely from the conversation.

A combination of Andrew's mouth and his hands were always enough to make Jesse come in an embarrassingly short time, and then Andrew found a condom and lube in the drawer and fucked him until they were both sweaty and exhausted.

"We did have a _bit_ of a fight," Andrew said finally, collapsing next to Jesse. His voice had gone entirely raw and shaky, and Jesse wanted to curl up next to him and never move again.

"Ugh," said Jesse. "Not right now, okay? I missed you too much." The bed had been really, really empty with only Jesse and three cats in it.

"Honeymoon sex, make-up sex, I-missed-you sex, congratulations on the award sex, congratulations on the job sex…" Andrew said dreamily.

Jesse wrapped his arm around Andrew's waist. "After we visit your parents in London we should go on a vacation."

"A week in Paris? I think my parents would pay for it."

Nothing had ever sounded as amazing to Jesse as a week in Paris with Andrew. "We're married adults with jobs; we can pay for it," Jesse said. "My sister can come stay with the cats."

Andrew kissed his neck again. "Of course. Don't ever go away again."

"You're the one who went away," Jesse objected, but Andrew was already half-asleep and maybe that wasn't what he'd meant anyway.

\--

Justin threw them a party at Woody's house after work. Jesse wasn't expecting much; a lot of music, a lot of booze, some of the inexplicably hot girls Justin always managed to scrounge up. Maybe some kind of stripper, or knowing Justin, maybe two or three different kinds of strippers. One of the reasons Jesse liked being married so much was that Justin had stopped trying to make him hook up with his "friends."

They walked around to the back of Woody's house, and it wasn't like Jesse had been expecting at all. He stopped dead at the gate. Justin had set up a few chairs in front of a little altar underneath an arch, and there were white and green flowers everywhere. It was too early in the year for grass to be growing, but most of the backyard was covered with foam done up to look like snow. Everyone he worked with was already in the back yard, and they were all a little dressed up. Brenda, who took photographs for their paper, had her fancy camera out.

"Uh, I think I'm underdressed," Jesse said. He'd been working with these people all day, and none of them had looked dressed up. He wished he wasn't wearing a hoodie under the cheap leather jacket Andrew had made him buy. Brenda and Emma were wearing boots with serious heels, the pointy kind.

"Yeah, but you always are," Justin shrugged. "See that shit? That's a _chupa_." He pronounced it with the guttural, phlegmy "chhh" noise, obviously very proud of himself. "You didn't have _that_ shit at City Hall."

"What's a chupa?" Emma asked.

"It's like a blanket on sticks," Justin explained. "It's a Jewish wedding thing. I looked it up."

"Wow," said Jesse, trying not to get choked up. He hoped Andrew showed up soon, but Andrew was nearly always a few minutes late to everything. "That's really thoughtful," he said to Justin. "I… I mean, thanks."

Justin shrugged with faux-modesty. "Yeah, well. Y'all two get to stand underneath it so we can take pictures, because you don't have any actual wedding pictures except that camera phone shot of you outside City Hall on Andrew's Facebook. That is the most pathetic thing I ever heard."

"We liked our little private ceremony," Jesse objected, but no one was listening to him. It was clear that Justin had invited more people than Jesse thought he actually knew; the backyard and most of Woody's house was filling up with people.

Emma said encouragingly, "Don't freak out."

Jesse made a face. "I wish Andrew were here."

"Poor little toaster, with all these people here who want to congratulate you," said Emma mockingly. Jesse just wished he wasn't wearing his dirty sneakers, because other people had dressed up like it was a real party for a real wedding.

Andrew came banging around the corner and into the backyard. He looked nice, but he tended to look nice even when he was just bumming around. It was one of the benefits of owning so many more clothes than Jesse did. "Am I late? Did Justin bring out the strippers yet? Oh my god," Andrew said, skidding to a stop by Jesse. "That's gorgeous."

"Smile!" said Brenda, snapping a couple of shots of them.

"Justin, that's amazing," said Andrew, squeezing Jesse's hand. Jesse felt a lot more prepared to handle the growing crowd if he had Andrew around.

"It's called a _chupa_ ," said Justin proudly. "Go stand under it so we can take pictures."

Emma stole Jesse and Andrew's coats and pushed them toward Justin's little improvised arch. The blanket stretched overhead with a little bit of fake snow on it. It was a little cold, and Jesse started shivering. He wasn't sure his hoodie was appropriate for wedding photos, but then they'd gotten married wearing old sweaters and jeans anyway.

"Look how cute this is," Andrew marveled. "Justin is amazing."

"Justin is going to brag about this for years. I thought this was going to be like a… Y'know, strippers and grocery store cake."

Andrew said gravely, "We have underestimated Justin. It's our own fault."

"Hold hands!" Justin yelled. There was a little crowd starting to come out into the backyard, smiling and taking out phones and snapping pictures of them. Jesse felt his cheeks starting to go red, and he thought about hiding behind Andrew. Andrew held both of his hands, though, and his fingers were warm where he laced them through Jesse's.

"We didn't get to do this properly at City Hall," said Andrew quietly. "We just signed a form."

"It was easier," said Jesse, trying not to stare at Brenda, who was circling them predatorily with her camera.

"I," said Andrew seriously, "promise to love, honor, and cherish. And to hang my coat up when I get home at night."

Jesse bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't laugh and ruin Andrew's joke. "I promise to love, honor, and come out to L.A. with you if you get your big break out there."

Andrew beamed at him and Jesse felt a little bit warmer, even though he could see his breath hanging in little clouds in the air. "I promise to turn the television off when I'm not watching it. And not to go to bed angry, or to leave for L.A. if I'm angry."

"I promise to spend every other weekend home with you," said Jesse. "I promise to explain to my mom about how I'm married and she has to share."

Something suspiciously like tears were welling up in Andrew's eyes. "Stop it," said Jesse, ducking his head. "You're… Brenda's taking pictures, it's not a big deal, it's just…"

"I love you," said Andrew, too heartfelt and entirely embarrassing, and Jesse knew he was blushing because the crowd was cooing at them. Brenda had taken more pictures than Jesse thought his parents had taken of him in his entire childhood.

"I love you, too," Jesse mumbled. He looked beseechingly over at Justin. "Can we go inside, now? It's cold, and… And everyone's looking."

There was an affectionate laugh from the crowd. "Come on," said Emma. "There's cake and booze inside."

"And strippers!" said Justin. "Nah, I'm just kidding. I _can_ throw a party that's classy and shit. See? You should have invited me!"

"If we had it to do all over I'd invite you this time," Andrew assured him, and got a thumping bro-hug for his trouble. Jesse followed them into the house and thought to himself that if he had it to do over again he'd do everything exactly the same.  



End file.
